


If Skull was...Shigeo "Mob" Kageyama

by Hisana_Reborn



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisana_Reborn/pseuds/Hisana_Reborn
Summary: I dunno, I like seeing Mob go wild tbh.





	If Skull was...Shigeo "Mob" Kageyama

 

  
Skull is swimming in a sea of laughing faces, people- beings (?) laughing so happily, practically glowing with the force of their glee. But the whole thing reeks of artifice, like everything is a paper-thin facade ready to rip through. The white, grinning faces loom over him, grasping and tugging. The greatest one stands tall above them, green and disfigured, a being of smoke and dead things and yet Skull is **empty** not just unafraid and what is-?  
  
His vision blurs and he’s on a street in Japan.  
  
Bodies. Unconscious, lie before him.  
  
His fault he knows.  
  
No guilt for them. But-  
  
**_IthurtsithurtsithurtsIthurtsithurtsithurtsIthurtsithurtsithurtsIthurtsithurtsithurtsIthurtsIthurtsithurtsithurtsIthurtsithurtsithurtsIthurts_ **

 

**He** shouldn’t be lying there, its all his fault.

 

**_His hands are dyed with his own little brother’s blood-_ **

****  
  
' _ Didn't you almost kill me nii-san?' _

**  
**  
  
_Sharp dark eyes stare at him, pale flesh already ruby with the fountains of blood spouting from his wounds, his hands are the coldest, reaching for him, and only now does Skull feel something,a terrified noble acceptance_ as a thought rises to the forefront of his mind.

 

**_'Is this what you need? Is this what it'll take for you to forgive me?' I'll die...if that's what you need...'_ **

 

 _The withered palm clamps over his nose and Skull is choking, but he's not struggling,_ **_his body is refusing to move-!_ **

 

**_He's going to die at this dark boy's mercy and he deserves it he knows. The black creeps in and Skull is d y i n g -_ **

 

 _He drops out of his bed with a_ **_scream._ **

 

**[64%]**

 

* * *

 

Skull leaps at Fon the first chance he gets, the man’s aura is filthy, dyed with the merciless intent that he so carefully hides under his calm facade, but there is enough about his calm, about his quiet indulgence of Skull’s whims that rings hollowly in Skull’s chest, enough of it, at any rate, to inspire a great longing. Hence the leaping.

 

Fon startles, arm coming up instinctively to block the oncoming projectile, but it is the work of just a though for said appendage to be whipped away, leaving his torso open for a wiggly Cloud’s hug attack. Skull buries his face in Fon’s neck, uncaring of how the man stiffens. Something familiar is tugging so very insistently at the back of his mind, and Skull focuses hard on the sensation, paying no heed to the barrage of questions from his fellow Cursed infants.  
  
Fon’s incredulous but polite stare is burning a hole in his head and Skull just can’t  _concentrate_ . 

 

Skull lifts his head, staring into confused dark eyes.

 

He ignores the sudden silence from the others and the ominous aura emanating from a certain hitman who was still tightly clutching his phone.

 

The tolerance in Fon’s eyes is fleeting, the longer Skull remains hanging off him, the more the warmth leeches from his eyes, leaving only a polite blankness behind.

 

**[76%]**

 

He slides off the man, eyes still pinned to his face. But Fon dismisses him with a glance, tugging at his rumpled top instead. Skull can feel the weight of the others’ stares now, pressing down on him, enveloping him. He feels his breath shorten as their images distort and lengthen before his very eyes. Skull can hardly make out the words, but even as monstrous as they now appear, it is barely a hardship for him to notice the condescension that paints Collonello’s face, the building fury on Reborn’s, the utter indifference of Lal and Verde and the amused disgust of Mammon.

 

_‘They’re...laughing at me.’_

 

**[88%]**

 

Building and bubbling, Skull attempts to flatten his features into a semblance of disinterest, but everything is boiling over and the voices aren’t just around him any more, they’re in his head, mocking him, always mocking. He drives onwards, away from his fake home and fake friends and fake life, because those voices know his truth and-

 

 **_“ Why can’t you get a clue?”_ ** ****  


 

**[92%]**

 

He drives **_away_** **.**

He needed... **safe. S** omeone **safe.** Someone **(s) safe?** The **Kozato,** yes they **would be-**

 

  
“It’s not the blood on your hands you should worry about.” Adelaide murmurs, watching Skull stare in horrified fascination at his red drenched hands. Already, the metallic-scented liquid is drying on his person, melding into a sticky blend with the thick layer of grime already present on his body. He stares up at her, eyes blown wide with only the barest ring of amethyst circling heavily dilated pupils.

 

Skull says nothing, and pity fills her. Adelaide grabs his arm and puls him with her, her voice strident but motherly as she lectures him about proper safety precautions to fill the silence. She decides to bring him to a safer environment to allow him to wear off the shock. Something makes her freeze at the last moment as a foreboding chill racesdown her spine.  She turns.

 

 **[100%]**  


Her vision whites out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ☘ Hisana_Reborn | Mob Pyscho 100
> 
> If you'd like to join as a writer tell us in a review!  
>  We enjoy having new writers in our group!  
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>  "Immortal are the words used to convey ideas."


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